


My Prospects Were Good

by phantomreviewer



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Driving test, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomreviewer/pseuds/phantomreviewer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that the team are getting the interesting cases “wherever they may be” the whole team need to be mobile and it’s decided that Kent’s Vespa isn’t quite mobile enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Prospects Were Good

_**Fic: My Prospects Were Good**_  
 **Title:** My Prospects Were Good  
 **Fandom:** Whitechapel  
 **Author:** [](http://phantomreviewer.livejournal.com/profile)[**phantomreviewer**](http://phantomreviewer.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairings/Characters:** Kent, Miles, Mansell, Chandler  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Disclaimer:** ITV. Title from The Beatles’ “Baby, You Can Drive My Car.”  
 **Warnings:** None.  
 **A/N:** I’ve been a bit quiet lately haven’t I? Sorry about this. Well, I’ve not abandoned you, no fear about that. I thought about writing this fic when the exams finished as a kind of hooray for myself and [](http://claddagh-irish.livejournal.com/profile)[**claddagh_irish**](http://claddagh-irish.livejournal.com/) (and anyone else who was sitting the dreaded A-Levels) for actually finishing… but then I forgot. I asked around my friend’s who have actually passed their driving tests… but then I forgot to write it. But then I sent off for my provisional driving licence (oh god help me!) and it’s results day this Thursday so I sat my sorry arse down and finally wrote this fic. Okay, author’s notes of death are finally over. On with the fic.  
 **Summary:** Now that the team are getting the interesting cases “wherever they may be” the whole team need to be mobile and it’s decided that Kent’s Vespa isn’t quite mobile enough.

They’d never expected to become this elite high profile team. BeforeChandler they’d always just been _another_ police team, with good relations in the service and regular, everyday cases.

 

The thing with the everyday cases is that they were by definition things that happened with alarming regularity.

 

And once Chandler had shaken away his team’s humble roots on a handshake the habitual drip-drip of crime pattered out into the occasional criminal torrent.

 

However, this lead to long, empty hours analysing CCTV and reading and writing various reports in lieu of successful cases, there were times when a robbery-come-accidental-murder sounded like the very idea of heaven.

 

Yet, the four of them were on course for higher and better things.

 

This meant, unfortunately for DC Kent, that rather than following a suspect or interviewing witnesses, the entire team were sitting in the office waiting for him to return from his driving test.

 

It had been received positively when Chandler had called them all in to explain that they’d now not be limited by location. That he’d cut a deal with the Commander and that things were going to be different now. However, when Chandler began speaking about the mobile nature of their future Mansell had made a joking comment aboutKent’s vespa.

 

In a matter of moments it was like the team had used to be when MacCormack and Fitzgerald were there, joking, with even Chandler joining in. Kent couldn’t even find it in himself to be _that_ annoyed when his Vespa was thoroughly veto’d by the entire team.

 

“We can’t force anything on you Kent, but I believe an upgrade from your scooter would be appropriate for your new position and the new responsibilities that we have as a team.”

 

And so it was agreed that Kent would learn to drive.

 

A few days later, after a quiet day of paperwork Miles clocked himself and Kent out of the office at lunchtime and took him out for a driving lesson. The following evening Chandler repeated the gesture.

 

After that Kent decided the sooner he forked out for a proper instructor the better.

 

His theory had been passed with flying colours; years of using the roads had given him a thorough background in driving etiquette.

 

And then he was left with the practical.

 

Which lead him to this point, standing outside the office, able to see the team through the frosted glass and able to hear the mumbled conversation which it didn’t take a detective to know that it was about him.

 

He’d driven himself to and from the driving test on his Vespa. Chandler had given him a half day off to take the test but he was still expected to turn up to work afterwards, regardless of whether he passed or not and the mortification of having to call for a lift if he failed would have been too much.

 

So the vespa was parked in the space next to Miles’ car, which wasn’t technically large enough to be called a car parking space at all, and Kent was standing by the office door.

 

He pushed the door open.

 

Chandler was the first to look up when Kent entered the room, but Mansell was the first to speak.

 

“So Kent, how’d it go?”

 

Kent swallowed as Miles looked him up and down, pinning him down under an appraising eye.

 

He’d been more concerned about telling Miles whether he’d passed or failed than he had his own father.

 

He didn’t have to see his father every day after all.

 

“I managed the stall the car.”

 

Mansell snorted at him, and Kent shook his head, approaching his desk and perching on the end of it facing the rest of the team.

 

“Well, come on, out with it lad, did you pass or do we have to go through this whole sorry charade again?”

 

Kent smiled; trust Skip to get straight to the heart of the matter.

 

“Kent?”

 

He turned to face Chandler.

 

“I passed with four minors.”

 

Mansell stood and clapped him on the shoulder. Kent’s smile bubbled into nervous laughter. He hadn’t been convinced that he’d pass and even after getting his result having to get back on the Vespa made it seem less real.

 

It was only with Chandler nodding at him, Miles smiling at him with proud eyes and Mansell laughing with him that he believed that he’d actually done it.

 

“Well done lad. Knew you had it in you to drive more than that poncy scooter for the rest of your life.”

 

Kent shook his head at Miles momentarily until he felt Mansell behind him, and he saw a bottle appear over his shoulder and get placed on the desk, swiftly followed by three mugs held precariously in his grip.

 

“We had a hunch that you’d pass.”

 

Kent smiled, turning to grin up at Mansell.

 

“Go on Kent, open the darned bottle already.”

 

Both Miles and Mansell were smiled at him, Mansell picked up one of the mugs that he’d placed on Kent’s desk and Miles extracted his own from his desk drawer. Chandler was frowning slightly at the three of them.

 

“I can’t condone drinking on duty. Of all people Miles I expect you to understand this.”

 

Kent froze, with his hands wrapped around the neck of the bottle but Miles just looked up at their DI.

 

“It’s just the one glass to celebrate the lad’s success. It won’t kill you sir.”

 

There the very slight nod on Chandler’s part, which was punctuated with the pop of the champagne cork.

 

The liquid bubbled over fingers as he poured champagne into the proffered mugs held out by Miles and Mansell and then poured the remainder into the two mugs on his desk.

 

He offered the fuller one to Chandler, who waved it away and gestured to the other.

 

Kent licked the spill-over on his own mug as Miles raised his own in toast.

 

“Congratulations Kent for finally pulling his finger out and learning to drive.”

 

Kent smiled and raised his own mug, alongside Chandler and Mansell.

 

“Kent.”

 

The only problem with the whole situation, Kent thought as he drank and laughed with his work mates was that he didn’t quite have the funds to hand to actually afford a car.

 


End file.
